As if she had predicted it, in short order the Frontier loomed up before them, replacing the gray haze with a stark blackness and Jack was suddenly glad and relieved that Burton was in command of the ship instead of him.

The barrier between worlds usually manifested itself as a line of thunderheads, electric storm clouds roiling with wind and rain and crackling with lightning. The Dragonships were designed by Ordo Maas to withstand the crossing, but most ordinary ships-those that would dare approach such a fearsome storm-would be driven back. Even the occasional few that made it past the Frontier were usually battered into uselessness and had to be abandoned soon after.

The ruins of Atlantis, the drowned lands past Avalon, were littered with the wrecks of vessels that had crossed the Frontier but were unable to continue.

The mermaids usually took care of whoever survived of the crews that sailed them. Mer-people were not ones to waste food, whatever its source.

This time the situation was different. The storm clouds reached to-past?-the surface of the torrential seas and formed a distinct, almost solid wall of darkness. Even Burton, who was usually in complete control of his reactions, was showing trepidation, if not fear. He was a cunning and bold captain-but the Black Dragon had not been built by Ordo Maas. There was proof in the Histories that it had gained passage through the old Frontier more than once, but there was no way of telling how it would fare against the nightmare that lay ahead.

Archimedes, Rose, and Laura Glue were already strapped to mainbeams inside the cabin, and John and Jack were considering joining them. There was little else they could do on deck that Houdini and Doyle were not already doing-and the two tulpas were both younger and more physically fit than they. Even Theo was more actively involved, as he seemed to be helping Burton choose a path to take through the blackness ahead.

It was all Jack could do to resist offering unsolicited advice, which Burton would probably throw back in his face anyway. He had a terrible urge to grab the ties to the sail and leap on top of the cabin, steering the ship into the storm like a bullrider.

A spar broke on one side of the deck and spun crazily across the planks before spinning off into the night.

"I had the thought that this might have been better if we'd converted the old girl to an airship," John shouted to Jack over the roar of the wind. "Fly over the clouds, you know? But I'm reconsidering."

The hull shuddered and groaned with the strain as the sails whipped about in the wind, tearing, pulling. ... And then, without warning, the center mast snapped and fell directly toward Burton.

In a trice, before any of the others could react, the Tin Man leaped in between the massive wooden beam and the wheel and caught it before Burton could be crushed.

With an immense effort, the Tin Man slowly pushed the mast back into position and over, snapping it off completely.

"What have you done?" Burton screamed over his shoulder. "You fool! You've killed us all!"

But Jack realized that the Tin Man had in fact done just the opposite-the main mast, which was taller than the others, was catching more wind in its sails and making it harder to maneuver the ship. Broken, it was even more of a danger to them. But gone completely, there was more leverage for the rudder, and more control for Burton.

"I should have let you drive," John said, seeing the familiar look on his colleague's face. "Sorry, Jack."

The darkness of the storm seemed to be reaching for the ship itself, as if the very storm had will, and intent.

"It is an Echthros," Theo said, his voice strangely clear in the din. "It is trying to prevent us from passing through."

"You mean the Echthroi," Jack called back. "Our enemies."

Theo shook his head. "Not many. Only one."

"Oh, for cat's sake," John complained, looking at the breadth and intensity of the storm surrounding them. "If this is just a single one of our enemies, we're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"Hold on," said John, lowering his head. "We're about to go into the worst of it now."

With a barbaric yawp, Burton spun the wheel and steered the Black Dragon into the heart of the darkness.

The ship crossed the Frontier.

There was a great deal of damage, but no cracks in the hull. And none of the companions had been injured or swept overboard. The Frontier disappeared behind them as quickly as it had arisen, and the dark storm clouds gave way to gray fog and endless open seas.

"I can't believe we've come through alive," John said, brushing off his jacket and checking his pack to make sure the Imaginarium Geographica was safe. "Well done, Sir Richard."

Burton acknowledged the compliment with a shrug and continued to examine the boat to better appraise the extent of the damage, but everyone who'd been on deck knew what had happened, and who was deserving of the credit. The Tin Man was the only reason the secondary masts were intact, and after saving Burton's life he had ridden out the passage holding fast to the rudder, which was nearly ripped free from its bracings.

Houdini seemed unperturbed, as did Doyle. Both men were in remarkable shape, particularly Houdini. It probably didn't hurt, John thought, that they were both tulpas-they had already gone through death itself. So what was a little hurricane to them?

Fred was the only member of their company who seemed distressed, and John knew that was probably just because he was wet. Badger fur did not take well to water and smelled horribly even in damp weather, never mind after being drenched in a thunderstorm at sea.

Fred noticed John looking at him and gave a cheerful salute to show he was all right-but conscientiously kept to the far side of the deck, downwind, just to be safe.

"Theo," Jack said, putting his hand on the tall man's shoulder and speaking quietly, so the others would not overhear. "The Echthros-is it gone?"

The End of Time didn't answer immediately, but stood on the deck, looking into the wind. He turned and looked back at the imposing blackness of the Frontier, then back at Jack. "I cannot tell, " he replied at length. "It may still be with us, or waiting somewhere nearby."

Jack folded his arms and bowed his head. "Is there any possibility that the Frontier kept it out of the Archipelago? That it didn't cross over with us?"

Theo looked at Jack, then, oddly, at Burton, who was still at the wheel, shouting curses and orders in equal measure. "All of this is being caused by the Echthroi," he said finally. "If one of our enemy chose to follow us through the barrier, there is nothing to prevent it from doing so. It could be with us even now, just biding its time, waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"To do whatever it has been sent to do," Theo replied, "to prevent us from reaching our goals."

"I see," said Jack, looking up. "And if that's the case, is there any way to stop it?"

Theo never answered, instead moving to help the Tin Man clear debris off the decks. After a moment, pondering, Jack went to help.

After the ship was secured, and food and drink had been passed around, John and Burton huddled close over the Geographica to determine where in the Archipelago they were. "I can't quite figure it out," said John. "We didn't start at a normal place, and I haven't seen any landmarks yet."

"Technically, we sailed from Oxford," said Jack, "so we ought to be close to Avalon."

"If we're lost," Houdini suggested, "then perhaps we ought to just ask that fellow over there for directions."

The surprised companions looked in the direction Houdini was pointing. There, on a protrusion of rock, stood a man. He was nattily dressed in a waistcoat and tails, with a boutonniere and spats on his shoes. He was slightly stout at the middle, and his reddish brown hair was beginning to thin.

To one side, on a smaller protrusion of rock, was a table set for tea; on the opposite side, a large steamer trunk rested on another rock just above the waterline.

The man waited, arms folded behind him, as they approached, then lifted a hand in greeting as the Black Dragon bumped up against the rocks.

"Greetings, travelers," he called out with restrained cheer. "From whence do you travel, and to what destination?" If he was in any way taken aback by the strange assortment of characters aboard the ship, it didn't show.

John stood at the railing and quietly gestured for the others to hang back until he could better assess who and what they were dealing with.

"I'm the Caretaker Principia of the Imaginarium Geographica," he announced to the man. "Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Oh, my stars and garters!" the man exclaimed. "I never believed I would be so lucky as to see you myself! All of us have imagined that we might be the one, but after so many generations, a hope unrealized becomes a dream and only a dream."

The man bowed deeply. "I am George Chanticleer, descended of the Chanticleers of Dorimare, and it is my honor to be of service to the Caretakers."

"I've read of a Chanticleer of Dorimare," said Jack. "Nathaniel, wasn't it?"

George bowed again. "My eldest forebear. You honor me by invoking his name."

"Eldest forebear?" Jack asked, a puzzled expression on his face. "Begging your pardon, but you and I seem of an age, and from what I knew of Nathaniel, he wasn't much older than I am. So at most, he'd be your father, wouldn't he?"

George stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it about, as if Jack's words had gotten stuck there and not quite penetrated to his brain. "Father? Well, I suppose after a manner of speaking, that's true. To be precise, however, he would be my great-great-great-great ..."

"Uh-oh," said Fred. "A genealogist."

"... great-great-great-great ...," George continued, counting off the "greats" on his fingers as he went. "... great-great-great, uh ..." He paused. "Maybe if I named them instead. I'm the son of Diggory the fifth, who was the son of Orson the ninth-"

"I'm starting to get the picture," John said interrupting him. "How long have you and your family been waiting for us here?"

"From the Day of Sorrows to this," replied George, his eyes welling up with tears, "it has been two thousand sixty-three years and a number of days. If you desire it, I can calculate the days."

"What deception is this?" Burton fumed as he grabbed John roughly by the shoulder. "Are you trying to deceive us, Caretaker?"

"You're seeing everything I am, Sir Richard," John shot back. "You're experiencing this in exactly the same way I am, so do all of us a favor and shut up!"

Theo stepped between the men and put his hand on Burton's shoulder. "Chanticleer speaks the truth," he said, his voice soft but clear in its conviction. "Twenty centuries have come and gone since any of you were last in this place."

Burton started to retort, then thought better of it and nodded. "All right," he said, turning to look at John. His temper had been cooled by the dark-skinned guide.

"I'm guessing that's why he needed to come along," Houdini whispered to Jack. "No one else I've ever seen has had that effect on Burton. No one."

"What happened, George?" John asked.

"There was a ferocious storm on the Day of Sorrows," said George, "and Avalon was caught up in it in a terrible way. The ocean heaved, and the black clouds descended from the sky and ripped the island into pieces. What you see," he finished, gesturing around him sadly, "is all that remains."

Instinctively, John and Jack both looked at Rose. Avalon was where she had been born and raised by her mother Gwynhfar and grandfather Odysseus. Once before they had come here, and they had not realized how strongly she identified with it as her home.

On that voyage, they had found the island to be much as they had known it-a ruined echo of what it once had been. But Rose had only ever known it as a pristine, gleaming jewel that could have been lifted out of mythic Greece, and in fact, all but was.

To see it in its dilapidated state had been a shock then-so how much worse would it be to find it utterly destroyed?

Rose saw their looks of concern and took them both by the hand. "It's all right," she assured them. "I had prepared myself to see ... well, something worse than before. I knew it was not going to look like I remember it."

"It must have happened when the last of the tower fell," said John. "After the rift started to widen, Avalon couldn't stand the strain of the difference in time flows, and it was destroyed."

"That could have happened to Tamerlane House, too, then," Jack said with a shudder. "I think I need to sit down."

"I wonder what made the difference," Burton wondered aloud. "Your reasoning is sound, young Caretaker," he said to John, "but your conclusion isn't. The same thing absolutely should have happened to the Nameless Isles. Absolutely. So why didn't it?"

"Shakespeare's Bridge and the golden eyes of the Dragon," said Jack. "I think that made all the difference. John and I lost two years, but Tamerlane House was spared the fate of the rest of the Archipelago."

"So," John murmured to Rose, "the Indigo Dragon saved us yet again."

"So what now?" Burton asked. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Go on to Paralon," said George. "You're expected. Or at least, you were, long ago." He straightened. "No matter. You've come at last. In the end, nothing else will be important. Do you know how to get there?"

"Finding our way from Avalon, uh, rock, to Paralon shouldn't be a problem," said Jack. "We've done that voyage a hundred times. It would be pretty hard for us to lose our way and end up at the wrong island."

"It's harder than you think," said George, "being as Paralon is the only island left."

"What?" Jack, John, and Fred said in unison.

"What are you talking about?" asked John. "What do you mean it's the only island?"

"That's all I know, all I can tell you," George said in apology. "The rest you will discover on Paralon."

"How can all the islands just disappear?" said Burton. "There's no sense to it. There must be an explanation."

"They were left on their own," George replied softly, his face reddening. "Not to put too fine a point on it, no one was here to, ah ... take care of them."

John and Jack exchanged a rueful look. This was one of their worst fears-that in the time of greatest need, they would not measure up to the task. Or apparently, be there at all.

"You've done your duty," John said with a wave. "Do you wish to come with us?"

"Thank you no," said George. "I'm going to write this up-so exciting! And then, I think I'll have tea, and watch the sun set. Now that you've come, there won't be any need for a Chanticleer to wait. And there's no greater honor I can think of ...

"... than to have been the last, very last, Green Knight in the Archipelago."

John was able to give Burton an exact heading to take them to Paralon, and he and the Tin Man put the remaining sails to use to gather as much speed as possible. He even suspected that the ship itself was adding to their momentum, as if it had understood the urgency of their mission and had chosen to help them, rather than hinder them.

"I have to say," Jack remarked to John and Theo, "that I'm starting to gain a new respect for the Winter King. If he did build the Black Dragon, he did a bang-up job. I don't know how he persuaded the Dragon to go along, but it's an impressive combination."

"It is at that," John agreed as Rose, carrying Archie, came to stand with him at the railing. "She'll have us in Paralon in no time at all. So to speak."

Only Fred noticed that Laura Glue had withdrawn from the others to stand alone at the aft of the ship. He made his way back to where she was watching the wake in the water and sidled up next to her.

"A muffin for your thoughts," he offered meekly.

"Isn't the expression 'a penny for your thoughts'?" she said without turning or looking away from the water.

"Maybe for human beans," Fred replied, "but badgers seldom have pennies. However, we almost always have a muffin or two." As proof, he rooted around in his pocket and produced a small chocolate-banana muffin.

Laura Glue dipped her head and laughed, then turned to look down at the grinning mammal. "What did you bring that for?"

"First rule of being a Caretaker," he said nonchalantly. "Never go anywhere unarmed if you can help it."

"Wouldn't a dagger, or a slingshot, or something like that be more handy?"

"Maybe," Fred admitted, "but if you find yourself feeling peckish, you can't nibble on a slingshot."

"True enough," she said as she turned to look at the water again.

"Why are you looking at where we've been?" Fred asked. "Home is in the other direction."

"Is it still going to be home when we get there?" she asked somberly. "After so many years, will we recognize anything?'

"One thing I've learned," Fred said with as much authority as he could muster, "is that you must trust in the Caretakers. Not me, I mean-but Scowler John and Scowler Jack. They will do everything they need to do until things are set aright. I didn't doubt them before, and I don't doubt them now."